


Difference Between Determination and Desperation

by Scribes23 (Hathly)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7148255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathly/pseuds/Scribes23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that's what I did. Felicity Smoak stopped. I had to leave him, not leave him, leave him but,to walk away, it's not like I was giving up, or I didn't try. Because I did , God knows I did. [XPosted on FF.Net]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Difference Between Determination and Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of sucks but I'm moving my stories from FF.net so bear with me.

# **Felicity

# 

**

At some point you'll realise that you've done too much for someone; that the only possible move is to stop.

And that's what I did. Felicity Smoak stopped. I had to leave him, not leave him, leave him but,to walk away, it's not like I was giving up, or I didn't try.

Because I did, God know that's I did but I had to draw the line between determination and desperation.

I didn't want to fall in love with him, not when He,Oliver Queen himself didn't want to give himself a chance.

I don't want to cling on the hope that maybe someday, there's going to be the right time for us. Who was I kidding?

I was so close to having everything I had waited for, it was so close that I almost tasted it, almost.

Someone once told me, "Timing has a lot to do with everything"

Well you know what? Timing sucks! I've lost people and found them again. And the second time around things just made more sense.

But, there's that one person in life that you can't bear to lose, that's why you'll have to keep them at arms length. Not as close as you want and need them to be, but at least they're there to stay, and that's Oliver for me.

I had to give him what he wanted. The path he leads it then same path as mine. But I can never be someone who'll rationalise everything, because I feel things and I revel on them. It's what keeps me alive.

I feel happy, sad, I get frustrated, hurt. I feel grief, the kind of pain that materialized into physical pain but it reminds me that I'm still here.

But the case is different from Oliver, he had felt every kind of pain there is that he believes he's damage, broken. I believe that it's what makes him who he is. Someone strong, a savior, someone to depend on.

But like I said, I'm done. I don't want to say I'm done forever because I know deep inside me, I'm not. But life goes on, I believe I'm worth something, a lot something. And I am not going to sit around and wait for him to realize things.

I need to do something with my life, something fun, something that'll keep my mind on our nightly activities. A normal day job, that's what going to make feel better. And though I'm not okay, I'll be fine. There's just times that I don't feel okay but that's just it.

That's just it.  
...  
...  
...

# Oliver

It was the colour of the pen she was chewing when I first met her. The was she babbled then, made me , truly feeling happy, amuse and carefree.

It was her lips when, it made me wonder would it still look that good on her if I kissed her and smudged it? Would she taste like what she looks like?

It was the colour I saw  
It's her face, whenever she says something embarrassing. If you look close enough, like I do, you'll see it rise from her neck to her face. Funny how I remember the things she said, when I was so distracted.

The colour of her jacket, one time we were on a mission. I remember hugging her close to me as we swing by. Her jacket that smells of vanilla and strawberry.

It was what I saw, when I saw her getting close to Barry Allen. I knew I had to find some reason to send the boy away, and I did. And I saw it again, and again, whenever she would go and visit him. I should feel terrible, you see, but it made me a bit happy that he was in a coma. Because if he wasn't surely they will talk.

Talk, a luxury I couldn't hard is it to say something. How words pour out but the meanings are lost in translation.

The colour of her dress, when we had Italian. When I thought I could do it, I could be Oliver Queen, a former billionaire.I've never been this nervous about asking someone out before, this time it was different. This time it's her.

So we talk, well we tried to talk, but I guess she's right. We've talked about lots of thing, we know almost everything about each other.

I talked to her quite a lot actually, but there's just some things that can't be said. Like that way I feel for her.

Because, it's was the colour of the blood, the the wounds on her head and body. I saw her, lying there barely breathing, as the same colour drains her face.

It told her it was okay, that she was safe, that I was there. But in truth I wasn't, I was angry! Angry at my self at the world.

I said it before and I need to remind myself again, that because of the path I lead, I can't be with somebody I'll really care about.

So we talked, she asked of me, the only thing I could not give her. I was hurt, but discipline is something I learned. So I watched her walk away, away from me.

Things changed of course, everyone notice how indifferent she was when it comes to me, not that I blame her. I figure I'd just give her space.

She was there, but it felt like she wasn't. She was acting the same but not quite. She always reliable but there was something between us, a barrier keeping us in place.

It was about time, when Diggle started to asked questions. We both say nothing of course. What would I say? Would I tell the story of how I dated her then ended it days later?

What would she say? That she'd give up on me? That she's rather not have me than wait?

I wanted to say Diggle was wrong, that he had no idea what I am going through.

He doesn't have any idea, how hard it is to let go of something you almost had. Almost.

Do you know how hard it is to wait for something? That you know will never happen?

How you're aching much just by thinking? How hard it is to let go, when all you wanted and needed to do was hold on to her?

Sometimes you have to let go of what's killing you even if it's killing you to let go.

It was Red by the way. The colour that reminds me the thing we could have been, in the back of my mind burning red.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading


End file.
